The Colonel
This tale starts 35 years ago. I was born on a cold winters evening in the small village of Ankorrik. It was a harsh night and the ice closed in around the window frames. My mother and father loved and nurtured me throughout childhood. They really cared as to how I felt. How I acted in school. How I looked after others. My cynicism for the world started one evening whilst venturing too near to the slums. The children spotted my neatly polished shoes, and well groomed hair a mile off. When they approached I knew it wouldn't end well for me. They had this look of hatred in their eyes. Like they genuinely wanted to harm me. I went away that evening, bruised physically, and mentally. I had been punished for my fathers wealth. But instead of resenting my father, I resented the poor. I wanted to defend myself. So I learned to fight! Using a way into the sewers I started I started to sneak off in the dead of night to hunt monsters in the sewers near to my fathers cafe. I learned about tactics, and disarming. Soon I faced the bullies again... This time it didn't go so well for them, & I ended up spilling blood. I took great pleasure in seeing the pain & fear in their eyes. At the time I remember thinking this wasn't a healthy reaction, however it helped me to get over the events of the past. By now I was well into my teens. Instead of finding girlfriends like the other local boys, I focussed on what I was interested in. Tactics, and politics. Not the most interesting of subjects for most, but it fascinated me. At almost my 18th birthday, the foul men from the slum decided they had had enough of living in poverty. I don't see why they didn't just go out and work hard to earn a living, instead of moaning all the time. They headed into the (now a) small town of Ankorrik to wreak havok. My mother got caught up in the violence. She was dragged off, mugged, then raped . This destroyed the entire family. She felt ashamed of what had been done, so she fled. My father has since become a recluse, & focusses soley on his business. He no longer has any other dealings in the city, and stays out of the way of most people. I soon got depressed of the life at home. Nothing seemed to improve with time. I needed out . The local guard commander took me under his wing, an old friend of my fathers. Now I was fighting for real! Holding back the wildmen in the evenings, and stopping the poor people from the slums stealing things during the day. I soon moved up the ranks, and gained a position high up in the city military. The new mayor, a close friend of mine, stupidly declared war on the Tengen Toppans. It was my 27th birthday when we were shipped away, over 3000 leagues away to finish a petty squabble which the mayor had started. I cleared line upon line of enemy troops. All I could see when I fought, were the faces of those slum boys from years ago. On returning to the city I was heralded as a hero, although I didn't consider myself to be so. Peace had taken hold again, and our lands were safe...or at least I thought so... The Mercenaries crept in by nightfall. Somehow managing to evade the guards. during the night, I awoke to a scream, and to see the lifeless body of my good friend the mayor being dragged off. To see such violence set against someone I held so dear effected me so strongly. I just couldn't do anything. Through the darkness I watched them get away with murder. I was paralysed by the fear and shock. I had done the same to many people before me, but had never felt the consequence. The next morning I stood up as the new leader of Ankorrik. I needed to be strong in this situation. I needed to take control of the city to show them we were not going to be walked over by these foreign invaders. Apparently The Norse had hired The Mercenaries. But I was deemed to be the evil one! They called me a murderer, and told me I had the mayor removed so that I could take up his position. I was too ashamed to tell the truth. Why would anyone want to know that their new leader had done nothing as the old leader was disposed of. When he could have helped. So I stuck with it, but the resentment of the people got tougher. Things were thrown at me in the street, and I felt hated. I cracked down, as an effort to get people to ignore that of the past, & accept me as the new leader of the city. I even gave myself the silly title of The Colonel, just so that people would see me as an authority figure. It backfired and people were more violent towards me than ever. I only try to be a strong and powerful leader that people can look up to, but nobody appreciates what I do .They do not realise the sacrifices I have made, and the effort I have put in. Always the city has come before my needs, but nobody understands. They city of Ankorrik would be little more than a sordid hole of filth if I hadn't stood up during the assassination by The Norse. They would have moved in here, & made it just like all other norse settlements. So now the city stands. Protected from the foreign hordes, by my men. We get by, however I feel the resentment is getting stronger, and people just always seem to have a problem with me. Like I am actually an evil dictator! I only try to protect all who live within the walls. My tale must now end. I feel that at the age of 35 my days are growing shorter. I only hope that someone finds my tale after I am long gone, and perhaps history will be rewritten. I want to be viewed as a protector, not a dictator. Forces are at work which I cannot stop. People conspire to work against me. They call themselves "The Resistance" and spend their time leaking all sorts of bad people into my city. Known to be traffickers of not only people, but illegal goods. yet they are hailed as Robin-Hood-eque people, who only wish for openness. The days are growing darker, and I know my time is up. I must end here. There are preparations to be made. I need a way out, if things turn ill in my wonderful city of Ankorrik. If you read this. Do not judge me. I have only tried to help. Goodbye. Signed William Fuller, aka The Colonel Category:Player Back stories